


Got You Hot, Bothered and Stuck

by TheAnderfelsOne



Series: Summer vacation [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Food Kink, Holidays, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Summer serie, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnderfelsOne/pseuds/TheAnderfelsOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett and Anders engage in some sexy lovin' in the Hawkes family estate's kitchen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It is supposed to be a midnight snack. Anders sneaking down to the kitchens of his lover’s holiday estate to have a generous slice of that cherry pie served in dessert from which he politely refused another refill. The Hawke’s family has always been nothing but sweet and generous and pleasant - when Garrett Hawke invited him to his family estate back in Ferelden for the summer - and just everything he wishes he can pride himself to own too. But, well… circumstances of life made it else way and anyhow, he doesn’t mind it much. He is loved. By another family, yes, but loved nonetheless. And that’s all that mattered.

He is also loved by the elder son of the Hawkes but that isn’t quite the same…

“ _Mmm…_ ”

“Garrett—we should stop…” Anders giggles. Garrett has plastered him against the island and now the blond man is sitting exactly were Carver usually have snack. Carver won’t be pleased. Especially if he knows Anders was also bare assed.

“Open your mouth,” Garrett orders huskily, “Another one.”

Anders rolls an eye and indulges him with a smirk first. He spreads his legs slightly wider for teasing purpose and entangles his ankles around Hawke’s small back, then _yanks_ the dark haired man onward with his legs like a fish on the line. Hawke startles and almost drop the cherry dangling between his fingers. But he grins predatorily at the sly move.

Then Anders parts his lush lips, already dark reddened with cherry juices smeared by Hawke himself. The latter drags the little berry over that mouth, tracing the plump curve of the sinuous tender flesh, all while fixing Anders with a hot gaze that can shred skin off bones.

Anders pursues the fruit with his tongue and the standing man growls a “Fuck.”

Anders chuckles - knowing exactly the effect it have on his boyfriend. Scratch that. He feels the effect against his thigh already - and catches the berry with his teeth, looking pleased with himself - There, sitting on his lover’s family island kitchen, stark naked and playing dirty with food.

Even when spitting out the kernel, Anders manages to make it sexy. Maybe it’s the mood, Hawke ponders. Maybe it’s the subdued kitchen lamp hanging on top of them which they decided to turn on because they could trip on a knife in their inebriated state. Or maybe it was just his boner doing all the thinking.

He wraps his hands around the blond lover and yanks him down for a kiss. Anders is just perfectly on level with Hawke’s head and the kiss is comfy and lazy and drags a long moment while their tongues dance around the flavors of sweet and bitter.

Anders lifts his left leg up in a straight line and damn the fucking Maker the man possesses legs for days. It comes to rest against Hawke’s nape and Anders reels Hawke against him just like that.

“Fuck, baby, you’re one flexible bastard you know that,” Hawke states with a twinge of lecherous pride.

Anders only chuckles at the crude compliment, “And you are one horny bastard,” He replies with the same seductive tone.

“Hey, you left the bedroom in the middle of the night and I find you bent over the fridge in your smalls. Honest to the Maker Anders, what if my father was the one to find you in that position; ass crack poking in the air.” Hawke brands that card because he knows how Anders gets around his dad.

“You’re father’s hot. I wouldn’t mind.” was Anders shamelessly surprising response. Okay, so maybe he was not just tipsy. For the sober Anders is more used to blush and trip over his words for a mere hello at the sight of Malcolm Hawke. The man carried himself like one of those mafia bosses in those tv shows Anders likes to watch. The kind that owns half the city and pet a cat while plotting on conquering the world from the underground. Okay, perhaps the latter was just Anders’ farfetched imagination, but the large picture was there.

 And it didn’t help his case that the man was really the boss of the famous HAWKE INC firms.   

 _And_ had the looks that came with such a social status.

“Hey now, was I supposed to know you find my old man hot? Cause I swear I’ll come needle you about it later when you’re less _horny_ yourself and we’ll see about that thought!”

Anders chuckles and starts to massage Hawke’s back with his legs, bringing him in a tight hug with them alone, “I love you…” he whispered into Hawke’s ear. The man hummed appreciatively. “… so don’t be jealous.”

“Wha—fuck you! I’m not jealous!” Hawke bucks off from the tight embrace, looking every bit offended. “How can I be jealous of my old man! I bet he can’t do half the things I do to you on regular basis.”

“Mm-hmm, I’m sure he’ll have a different point of view if he was here,” Anders muses, recoiling to lean on his elbows now; legs dangling off the island.

“What part of _old_ man don’t you get,” and he thrusts himself to kiss him. Their mouths meet barely and Hawke knows it’s because Anders don’t put any effort to get closer, indifferently leaning backwards like the smug cat he is. Hawke furrows at the detached leisurely expression on his lover’s face and in an abrupt move, jumps on top of the counter with him.

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re gonna start pondering the idea in your head now.” The large man reprimands as he captures Anders’ lips ferociously like something that was denied to him for too long.

“I told you, don’t be jealous,” Anders muses against all the muscles shadowing him.

“Ugh, I hate your small ass when you’re tipsy.”

“Then my small ass and I will just have to leave…” and in cat-grace, Anders pours himself off the counter.

“Hey .”

Anders looks from behind his shoulder.

Hawke grins under the dim light. “You have cream on your left cheek, love.”

“And who put it there, love?” Anders smiles mischievously. That’s right. Hawke put it there not so long ago when he found Anders dipping cherries in cream like a sneaky hungry cat.

The memory of what they did from then on, while still fresh and raw manifests back in the forefront of his mind.

Anders on his knees, sucking bourbon off Hawke’s cock.

Spread on the counter, Hawke’s eating shamelessly the whipped cream off his asshole… fucking him with a bourbon dripping cock and cream lubed hole.

“Come here.” His voice is hoarse and edging on authoritative. Pupils blown wide as the body remembers every touch and every caress. Anders has always had that effect on him. Making him loose it all. Turning on switches he doesn’t even know he possessed.

Turning him wild and primal. The most basic instincts of an alpha.

Anders obeys surprisingly right away. After all, there is no denying the man’s hottest turns on are when Hawke uses that particular tone in bed. It’s always the promise of hard, wanton and incontrollable pleasures. Hawke knows it too. Even if he doesn’t indulge it all the time, his lover has a hardcore streak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to do with this story but DO is to be updated sometime Now x)  
> Could be considerate as advertising my own serie but hot damn yes! I'm happy!

As soon as Anders is in arms reach, Hawke yanks forcefully, “I’ll be jealous,” Anders gasps at the ferocity of the grip, “however the fuck I want,” He finishes, growling in his ear.

Anders let out a small pitiful enough to be a funny kitten sound, akin to a mewl, and grinds against the rough grip. Hawke’s machismo has always been one of his big turn on.

Hawke’s hands skims to his ass and gropes the pert mounds possessively, keening them until Anders starts to wince from the pressure of the man’s fingers. Hawke makes out with him for another good sloppy minute and when he extracts his tongue, Anders is a disheveled mess of eros in his arms.

rumpled hair, dark eyes gazing from beneath endless surprisingly not blond eyelashes, flush cheekbones and mouth bruised and swollen into an angry red that screams ‘violate me some more’. 

Hawke wants to bask into that image Anders is unconsciously offering and never come up for air again. He wants to tell Anders if he knows how gorgeous he’s looking right now. If he’s aware of what he’s doing to him inside. But all words would be just a waste of saliva.

Hawke will sound like a broken tape and Anders would likely quip something like, “Yeah, we kinda told me that before.” Because that’s how smuggy Anders tends to be when drunk.

He let go of one cheek and stretches towards the bowl of cherries he was feeding to Anders earlier. “Do that thing with your tongue again.”

Anders looks at him at him from beneath his eyelashes and gives him his most kinky gaze.

Can gazes be kinky? Hawke doesn’t fucking know; but it’s how his dick interprets it. Yes, because it’s his dick doing all the thinking right now since his mind is unfortunately off-grid.

His lips stretch into a coy little smile, “I’ve already done it four times.”

“I want to see it again.” and he graze the cherry on Anders’ lush lips slowly, “You kill me when you do it. It’s so fucking kinky.”

Anders takes the red fruit between his teeth and closes his mouth on it. The other man watches how the inside of his boyfriend’s mouth move and twist, knowing fully what’s going on there. What that incredible tongue can do with a fucking fruit stem.

A few seconds later, Anders stick out his red tongue and there, on his flat palate the red stem of the cherry - knotted.

“Fuck,” Hawke’s breathes out, never impressed enough when he sees it. “You’re a fucking pro Anders.” And it mildly sounds as a genuine praise.

Anders chuckles humbly. Hawke caresses his cheekbone with his knuckles, “I wonder when you learned this slutty trick. And why.” And there is definitely no twinge of jealousy there. Definitely not.

 “In high school. There’s not really a why… until I discovered it’s something rather appreciated.”

“You mean it’s a turn on alright,” Hawke corrects.

Anders smiles humbly again.

Hawke catches him in his arms.

The blond gets rid of the stem and put it blindly somewhere unimportant. Forgettable. His eyes are too busy making love.

He twists his head to the side, and Garrett cants down and claims his mouth. Everything is reduced to cherry flavors, whipped cream and margaritas after taste as Hawke bites and gnaws on Anders’ mouth like he wants to just eat his lips and be done with it. His grip on the milky smooth backside that still refuse to tan get tighter and suddenly, Hawke put enough strength to lift Anders off the floor and sit him back on the island, changing their position in a swift spin.

Anders giggles. Arms still around Garrett’s shoulders and neck as the latter start making it atop the counter. It makes Anders lean backwards and he let himself be sprawled on the hard surface.

Hawke lifts himself on his hunches for a minute. “Round two,” He growl deep in his throat. He picks up the long glass of margarita which Anders’ was sipping from and guzzles it down it one go. Anders pouts.

“That was mine.”      

“Here,” Hawke gives him the cherry in the toothpick. “You had enough already.” He says matronly. Anders has enough. He loves when he gets drunk but he also knows he doesn’t hold well his alcohol. And he doesn’t want the blond man completely wasted after all. Even if he has experienced sex with smashed Anders, tipsy has always suited his boyfriend long enough.

Shitfaced drunk? That just brought troubles.

Anders accepts the cherry though, and winds his ankles over Garrett’s broad back. He starts to rub his thighs against Hawke’s hips sensually and manages to looks down on Hawke even though he’s under him.

And Hawke gulps. Fucking loudly gulps. Because he doesn’t know how the guy do it but those hooded eyes alone practically makes sweet, sexy loving to him.

He grabs one perfect long, so long leg and gives it a soft almost chaste kiss. And it’s hilarious ‘cause the only ‘chaste’ thing left around them is the little picture taped to the fridge of Bethany with a beach pail and shovel when she was four.

Because the food is no longer innocent. The drinks are no longer innocent, the kitchen’s furniture is no longer innocent, and the counter is hard but no longer cold. It’s probably even blushing from all the action it seen over the last hour.

Even the air around them is cool and thick with sex.

Anders seems to be moving his hips to some kind of burlesque tune. Sexy and Indolent. Hawke is reduced to leering.

A bewitched and _hard_ leering. The kind that makes you think a nerve is gonna pop at any moment and he’s going to _punish_ Anders for working him up to such a oppressive hard on.

He doesn’t realize he’s still holding Anders’ leg up like a possessive boy over his new favorite car toy and it leaves the blond man underneath in a non less whorish position. The leg that isn’t putty in Hawke’s hand moves and intertwines lissomely around the black haired man’s nape.

And the rangy limb _tugs_.

“We’re going to do it in that position again?” Anders slurs against Hawke’s face, brought close enough to kiss.

“What do you suggest?” Hawke for all his macho attitude, chokes out.

Anders smiles, “You took such good care of me earlier. Now it’s my…” and his leg tugs a bit more, leans over and speak in Garrett’s ear, “Turn.” and with that, Anders swirls them around with the grace of a flipped pancake on a pan.

“Woah, shit,” Hawke’s eyes grow wild with not so unlikeable surprise. He does feel a bit sore from being so easily tricked and flipped upside down.

But Anders only tips his head to the side in bemused mirth.

Hawke looks up at him from that angle and silently notices how Anders is happy. Like not sex-satisfied happy, but plain glibly happy. Mirthful and loose, eyes crinkling and sparkling and beautifully drugging.

Garrett let himself relax under the weight. Hands start to travel up and down his torso, massaging his pack in slow solid circles. Sometimes they can’t resist and grab a bit of flesh forcefully, giving it a good feeling up. The larger man just grins, and stretches his arms behind his head. Completely letting Anders gives his body the proper worshiping it deserves. He suddenly feels somehow important and expensive.

The background of their estate’s kitchen blurs and his mind toys with the idea of a much more expensive place; dark and black leathered, raw and predatory and Anders is not his boyfriend but his _boy_.


	3. Chapter 3

“You like that…?” Anders slurs.

“Mmmh fuck yeah. C’mere.” And he pulls Anders to him for a sloppy kiss. He keeps hold on him when he says into his mouth, “Wanna be my little slut? My sexy whore? Be my _boy_ and worships me?” He growls deep and smoky and tugs on Anders’ hair with one hand to reveal a milky white neck, strained and carrying the man’s darkened love bite.

 It makes Anders groans deep in his throat, “ _Yeah…_ ”

Hawke reaches for a cherry from the bowl still lounging over his head. All bottles and glasses are pushed away to give them ample space. Anders opens his mouth obediently. He munches on it while keeping eye contact and spit the kennel above them, shooting it away like a bullet. Next, Hawke smears some of the cold white cream on the cherry-red lips in a slow motion, taking his time to pull on the plump lower lip on his way. “Show me.”

It's Anders’ time to gulp. Hawke’s tone dropping into something so unrecognizable; something primal and graveling and scalding, Anders’ head gets dizzy from it alone.

He slinks down the large muscled body like a piece of silk. Like a large tomcat on a wooly carpet and soon Hawke is only able to see a mop of spun blond descending upon him, brushing his hot skin and stopping strangely below his navel. That head lifts up and Hawke is met with hungry motherfucking dilated eyes. 

The whole body follow suit and Anders sits back straight on his boyfriend’s tights. He reaches for a half filled crystal glass of expensive golden bourbon lazing around beside them and next thing Hawke knows, his stomach ribbons as he feel the ice-cold liquid on his skin. Or more precisely, on his navel. Anders pours it down so blatantly, the dark haired man seriously wonders at that exact moment if his lover hadn’t done it before.

Anders proves himself up to the challenge and while he doesn’t utter a word in some kind of respectful worship, the look on his eyes clearly says; _I’ll show you._

Then he respectively inclines down and laps at it.

“Fuck— _shit_ … _Oh fucking shit—_ ” Hawke moans and groans and his cock is dancing the polka.

Anders sucks the liquid off Hawke’s navel like a slutty kitten. But then Hawke realizes such a thing doesn’t exist. Slutty kitten? That sounds almost offensive, yet that’s the first thing that comes to his mind.    

But the icing on the cake, the blond man makes - _mm mmh um -_ small sounds as he bloody slurps the liquor like a starving pet. He looks up. Motherfucking looks up from under his porn-eyelashes and flicks his red tongue all over him, leaving his lover wondering how can he pull out such an innocent and at the same time so obscene look.

“You like that?” Anders slurs on top of him.

“Uhuh.” Is all the black haired man’s throat can work out. And Anders smirks. When there is no liquor left in the belly button, Anders lick his lips, put one last kiss on top of it in small reverence and resume his ascension down the sun hugged taunt muscles.

He watches in pure rapture as creamy white flesh stretches on top of him like a lazy cat, arms outstretched on top his torso as Anders’ face disappear again behind the silky blond curtain. Something inside him nudges his little box of dark desires and makes him plunge his large hands in that too combed hair and tugs. That externs a low surprised “Mmmm…” from Anders.

“You’re such a nasty boy.” Hawke responses.

Anders _hums_ and it’s his turn to take Garrett by surprise as he straightens up on his hunch all at once. He looks down in some kind of mesmerizing indecipherable expression and Hawke tilts his head in query and amusement.

And Anders smirks. Slowly. And it’s not the only thing that’s start to move slowly. His hips begin to sway ever so slightly in practical nonchalance.

Then the waist join the hip-swaying and everything start to get sharp and pointy and his backside start to thrust languidly back and forth and Garrett can scarcely believe the lambent sight towering over him. The blond’s hands join the lazy dance and start to roam over his own body, feeling up his own flesh. His arms outstretch in the air and make the planes of his body elongate beautifully like a model-catalogue posture.

He does wonder sometimes what’s Anders doing with a violin when he could have been a famous runaway model. Oh well, in the end he guesses that’s maybe what makes his charm. He can be a model a _nd_ a successful musician after all.

He also can almost guess the beat going down that inebriated head of his boyfriend. It’s something sexy and sluggish. With trumpets and low drums. Something burlesque and made for foreplay.

He starts to grind but Anders grab his hips firmly and hold them down. He smirks and Hawke gets the message. The lurid message. So he is to lie there and enjoy. Hmm yeah, he can definitely do that. His boyfriend is riding that roleplay like pro. He finds himself wishing there were cameras taping this. Because Anders seems to have peeled off his last rational and shameful senses and he always wishes to keep this in every kind of memory.

The atmosphere gets hotter and Hawke’s cock is gushing precome like a wound. Anders grinds down against him some more, licking his lips and playing with his shoulders seductively, bedroom eyes glazed with alcohol and arousal. Hawke fully know that if he wants, he could just throw Anders on his back and turn him into a puddle of moaning, pliant goo.

He remembers how Anders becomes so easily manhandable when inebriated enough like this.

“You know what you do to me right baby?” Hawke slurs, still watching the swaying limbs.

“What?” Anders demands, chuckling light headedly.

“You know exactly what babe. You want me to throw you on your back like that last time and fuck you stupid on the closest furniture? Keep you mewling under me in ecstasy as I arrange you insides with my cock? Huh? Wanna get me all hot and bothered so I throw all cautions to the wind and fuck you like a cheap whore on the island?” Hawke drawls with no shame to the world as he tries his damn not to touch the man above him.

He can be a motherfucking teaser too.

“I just wanna show my appreciation.” Anders surprisingly sounds all quiet and bashful.

“Appreciation?”

“Yes. For everything you’ve done to me. For being so good to me,” Anders says and Hawke knows it’s not part of the act when his body unconsciously stops swaying to the invisible music.

Hawke stops leering and purposefully stares questionably now.

Anders let his stare stray a little. Become less focused but he quickly shake it away and the next time he blinks, his hooded gaze is back, looking down on Hawke with a tiny smile.

“Anyway, I think we were in the middle of something right?” His sultry voice shakes Hawke back to the reality that surrounds him. Which is Anders, naked, on top of him on the counter. His cock automatically focuses back.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

And Anders moves around to turn so that he faces Hawke’s shaft which by juxtaposition gives Garrett an obscene picture of his ravished backside.

Anders’ pucker winks at him as he leans and lifts himself on his forearms and it’s all Hawke can takes not to quiver down every knob on his spine.

He licks his lips lecherously.

This round is going to be _filthy._

Anders descends on his straight cock with a slow long lick that leaves it with a shudder. But he keeps licking it for a long while and doing nothing else but _licking_. Like would a cat over a bowl of milk.

“Fuck—Maker, Anders—” He hisses and that’s it; deliver a sounding slap to the pert ass in front of him.

Anders jerks, taken surprise and gasps loudly and Hawke’s lips crooks into a winning grin. “Now that’s enough. Start sucking you devilish minx,” he says, rubbing the place where his handprint is emblazoned.

Anders moans at the commanding tone and shivers explicitly on top of the dark haired man. He doesn’t reply and just takes the cock in his mouth obediently.

Garrett spasms for the first seconds his member is engulfed in the spit-slick heat. Anders is the best cocksucker he’s ever experienced and Maker helps him he experienced a lot. And following that thread of thoughts, the man wonders for a few heart-tugging seconds if Anders is also the same. Surly all his skills had came from somewhere. From someone…

“Fuck—” he groans and Anders smiles around his mouthful as he mistakes the pent up curse for a shot of pleasure.

Hawke _hates_ how that twisting bubbling feeling takes over his guts. It’s supposed to be a numb, liberating moment. Loose himself on the island of his kitchen surrounded by half and empty bottles and chilled cocktail glasses; and instead that fucked up jealousy feeling that brought them troubles so many times and a handcuffed night in a police station is pocking at his heart again.

He puts a possessive palm over one pale cheek.

Anders is moaning obliviously away on his cock. “Garrett…”

It takes a few seconds for Hawke to come out of his frustrating haze but he croaks at last, “Yeah, baby.”

“You’re still with me?”

“Always.” It’s a little too serious and too harsh. Hawke is only aware of it when it spill off his lips. Oh. Anders must have found his sudden silence odd. He promised filth and instead he’s green eying over a phantom of Anders’ past.

Anders is all soft on top of him and it feels on the way his hands are all of a sudden slow and tentative as he reaches for his balls. He leans even more onward and fondles them like handling the most precious raw gems.

Hawke feels guilty for it, “It’s all right baby, I was thinking about how good you are. You blow my mind every time you suck me it leaves numb,” he says more lovingly like a good boyfriend while still stroking Anders’ ass.

Anders seems to like the response and Garrett can picture the humble smile as he chuckles. Fuck he loves him too much for his own good.

 _Their_ own good. 

He shakes his head concretely and decides it’s time to take care of his lover. As he shakes his head, he sees another glass of dark whiskey almost empty with ice cubes. With no presumptions, he plunges his hand on the glass and picks up a cube.

And brings it over his boyfriend’s cleft. The reaction is immediate. Anders squeaks so loudly Hawke is almost sure the whole downstairs floor heard.

“Wha—” Anders manages as he tears himself from where he was lapping at Garrett’s balls.

“Shh…” Hawke says through his hoarse voice as he slides the ice cube down Anders’ spread ass crack. It’s a sinful sight and the ice cube quickly stands no chance against Anders’ hot body.

It melts down his ass, his fingers, his wrist, Anders’ premium.

He’s sitting at the front rows as he sees the cold droplets leaving a trail of gooseflesh over the fresh-shaved space between his balls and hole. There isn’t an ounce of hair down there after the trimmed blond curl over his cock. There’s already not much on regular basis as the hair is already all faint-blond but Anders wanted to try something sexy for that special holiday he’ll be spending with the Hawke family overseas and Hawke honest to the Maker almost drooled over the side of his mouth at the first sight of freshly waxed flesh.

“ _Garrett—fuck mgh…_ ” Anders says more hushedly and finally chuckles at the wicked play. He cranes his head to see behind him and watch as Hawke is enraptured by what’s going on down his ass. He’s licking his lips like a fucking wild feline about to feast.


	4. Chapter 4

He shudders all over Hawke’s body and starts to squirms unintentionally. Garrett twists his head up to lean forward and drags his tongue into a long lick that goes from the top of the blond’s hole up to his tailbone and finish it with a obscene slurp.

“ _Ughnn_ ,” Anders purrs deep in his throat, “Fuck—Garr—Fuck, I want you.”

“You’re ass tastes like motherfucking cream and whisky. Fuck it’s delicious,” he responds lost in his own pursue of sweet-bitter tastes and in a brazen moment, pushes the ice cube around the rim of his asshole.

Anders is so shocked his next moan is caught in his lungs and he almost goes through a dry orgasm.

“Garrett what the fuck are you doing—”

“I don’t know but it’s fucking hot. Fuck Anders the ice is melting all around you!”

“Fuck, it’s so cold…” the blond man whines low and deep and fall on his elbows as his back heaves softly around the sensations.

“How does it feel.” Hawke doesn’t ask. Demand.

Anders takes another a breath, “Cold. Tingly. I don’t know… Garrett,”

“You’re georgous,” Garrett replies and leans again, but this time it’s to kiss Anders’ premium.

“Mmm.”

“Baby…  you’re so hot you’re melting ice. I wish I could videotape this so I have the proof for people.”

Anders’ laugh, “Maker what are you saying…” he pants a little more as Hawke licks the droplets after kissing, “You’re not showing anyone anything!”

“Yeah… I wanna make them jealous. Wanna make them all fucking batshit jealous.”

“You don’t need to show them my asshole for that,” and Anders laughter fills the kitchen, liquid sweet and bright like the Amaranthine sun they’re bathing under every day.   

 Hawke delivers the said hole a sudden open-mouthed kiss and says “If you say so.”

It makes Anders laugh bubbles even more until the dark haired man decides he wants something else. He goes for the bowl of cream and dips his fingers in it. He takes a taste off his thumb and the rest, he smears over the puckered swollen ring of muscles.

“Mmmh,” Anders moans or chuckles or the two at once, at this point Hawke just want to see how every stuff he put over Anders’ entrance affect his own throbbing cock.

His fingers cover the moist cleft with white cream and plaster the rest all over his hole again, slipping a finger in the passage.

Anders buckles at the sensation of something else breaching him and sighs. “Mm _yeah._ ”

Hawke starts finger-fucking him with his index. It doesn’t last much, because Anders lifts his butt off and his whole body follows as it slides away and downward over Hawke’s sprawled body until his ass is symmetrically on top of the larger man’s hard on.

Then Anders dips down and takes him slowly inside.

“Mmh fuck yeah,” Hawke sighs deeply and put an arm behind the back of his head, making his biceps muscle bulge.

Anders is hot yes, but the ice cube that was slipped inside him still left tinges of cold and it’s the fucking best sensation ever. He bucks his hips violently and out of pace, making Anders’ ass jolt and wiggle and he grins. Yes. That’s what he’s talking about.

Anders giggles because he almost tumbles off Hawke’s lap after one particular brusque shove. Hawke watches him as he pick up a long swirl of the margarita he made and munch around the cherry dropped inside all while bouncing away on Garrett’s hardness.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah,” Anders wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets back to deliver a wicked roll of his hips, “Now lay back so _you_ can enjoy.”

Hawke do the same with a handy chilled glass of something Anders mixed with whiskey. It’s sour and fruity and perfectly hit his brain instantly. Then he does as he’s told but not without having the last word, “Go ahead, give me a good show of how this ass pumps cock.”

“ _Mmm,_ okay,” Anders lewdly replies. He effectively pumps the man’s cock slow and sluggish and Hawke thinks it’s all the alcohol settling. It’s cute but he doesn’t really care. He smacks a cheek hard.

“Harder.”

Anders keens and tries to focus on the movements of his ass obediently. It’s such a slutty noise and sight, the larger man can’t help but do it again.

 _Slap._ “Come on, come on, come on.” And every time he slaps the ass cheeks, cracking sounds ring all around the kitchen with no care to the world.

“Yeah fuck yourself, yeah that’s it, that’s it. Roll your hips baby. Do that eight with your ass.”

Anders complies and lifts himself a bit to do that snake move of his. It’s a dance move in origin and it makes Garrett’s eyes roll back and his dick squeezes and throbs and leaks precome inside Anders again. “ _Oooh yes._ Fuck you’re such a freaky slut baby. Where the fuck did you learn to do that.”

It spill out of his mouth even though his heart doesn’t really want to know, but his mind subconsciously needs the information.

“I don’t know…” comes the panting reply,   

“I bet it turned your exes crazy. You did it to Howe?”

Anders pauses a minute, head hanging between his shoulders blades and pants softly over the far from average thickness spreading his swollen asslips.

Finally he whispers, “Yes.”

Hawke gropes his sharp hips roughly and the hand behind his head flies to disappear in the mussed golden strands and _tugs._

It makes Anders retracts suddenly backwards with a yelp and lands non too smoothly against Garrett’s whole chest – dick still nestled inside him.

“You ride him like that huh? Was he the first one to sample it? That move?”

“No—no,” Anders gulps around the forceful manhandling, letting Hawke pound his hips against him.

“Oh? You learned it in high school too?”

“No. No.” and this time it sounds almost, _almost_ angry.

“I don’t know, Garrett, I don’t want to talk about my exes in the middle of sex with you…” It comes out in a tired plea. Anders is drunk and he doesn’t have the backbone in him to chide forcefully because it stating to sound like Anders was a real whore all his life and the blond man doesn’t like it.  So he just slurs-whines the words and frowns deeply around the haze of pleasure hoping his boyfriend will take notice.

He does and Hawke stops at once. “Turn around baby, I wanna see you now.”

Anders complies and sits back on his hunches so to lift himself slowly from the girth lodged inside him. But as Garrett braces for the pop his dick will make as it will hit the cool air, Anders just swing one leg and turns his whole body swiftly around  and Garrett’s cock stays half way inside him.

“Fuck mmh.”

“Good?” Anders asks softly.

Hawke put his hands around the sexily outlined poking hipbones and ranks his eyes over the new sight looming over him, “Yeah…” he says and bucks his hips upward.

“ _Aah,_ Ah yeah, _auh auh mmgh_ yeah fuck—yeah—” Anders droops his head backward and let his jaw go slack around the litany of moans and groans and pants of pleasures as Hawke fucks in him wickedly just the way he likes.

“Fuck yourself on me.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” And it’s barely an exhale of breath as Hawke stops and the blond starts working his hips and thighs, taking Hawke’s cock with a rough shallowness while bracing himself on the chiseled man’s chest.

They fuck away for a long time, until Anders deliver a surprisingly wicked twist of hips and Garrett’s head –which was leisurely pillowed against his arm shoots upward with a violent jerk,

“Fuck! Ah! stop stop stop!”

Anders withdraws from his ecstatic daze and looks down at the man as if someone has awakened him at quarter past four in the morning.

“What…?” he asks around his haze and upon watching Hawke’s screwed-stricken face, starts to finally realize something is going on and _really_ stops.

“Don’t fucking move,” Garrett hisses, more to Anders’ surprise and incomprehension.

“What’s going on?”

The  man underneath goes still as if paralyzed and begins to breath raggedly with an O shaped mouth, “I’m stuck.”

Anders’ head startles backwards, “What?”

“I have a cramp, I’m fucking stuck, _Oh fuck,_ ”

Anders put his hands on Garrett’s shoulders and tries to raise himself, “Holy—! Don’t freaking _move!_ ” Hawke almost shouts this time if not for the fist that goes flying to his mouth.

Anders looks down at him with perplexed wide eyes and still his every muscle. He stays like that for a minute, watching as his boyfriend’s features pinches in what most likely is _pain_? But as the silent and situation dawn on him, he begins to vibrate in chuckles and stifled laughter.

Hawke shoots him a resentful look and snaps, “What?”

“It’s just…” he chuckles some more, “You look so funny, all pinched face like that,”

“You think it’s funny? My freaking cock almost snapped inside you I’ll let you know!” 

The tightness in Hawke’s voice does pains Anders and he tries to muster more seriousness as he asks, “But how?”

Garrett tries another move but quickly abandon everything as the pain shoots visibly through his features, “I have no idea, you suddenly did that twist and tightened around me and I literally saw stars, it was too much,” and he says it with such a pained expression Anders doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore.

“Um. Okay,” Anders says as awkwardly as the silence that falls over them and his position - perched up immobile on top of Hawke.

On top of the kitchen island.

Butt naked.

“So, what now?”

“I don’t know. I still can’t move my cock. _Fuck_.” He curses and scrunches his face when he tries a small motion.

Anders can’t suppress his stuttering giggle and try to hide it behind his hand when the man beneath him throws him another annoyed glare.

“Sorry— _pftt—_ no, I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s so funny.”

“Oh yeah?” Hawke snipes with an unimpressed glare.

“Well, I mean,” Anders tries again between his chuckling, “You’re actually s _tuck_ inside me! And we’re in your estate’s kitchen, stark naked!” and let loose another round of giggles.

“ _Uhh_ , we’re so screwed. We need to do something.” Hawke mourns and rubs his entire face.

“I could try sliding out softly?” the blond man suggests.

“No! It fucking hurt!” Hawke snaps back.

Anders sighs as his shoulders slumps. “How about _you_ soften, you’re still hard.”

“I—I wish I could…” Hawke says with begrudging tone as he cranes his neck to look sideway.

Somehow Anders can’t decide if he finds it amusing or just adorable.

“Maybe I could help you out. Hey,” Anders replies gently as he tries to bring his boyfriend to look back at him. Hawke does drag his eyes slowly away from where they were aimlessly staring at the air to look at his beautiful—

“Wha—what are you doing?” Hawke blurts out with a frown at the cross eyed, cheeks sunken and tongue pulled boyfriend.

“Making a derp face.” Anders responds still cross-eyed. “So you lose your hard on.”

And Hawke actually cracks up at that as Anders changes for another goofy grimace that involve ears pulling. “Oh, Anders,”

After three other clown shows, Hawke gives in, still chuckling, “Baby, stop, come on, you just look silly,”

“Whyy? Look! I’m so uglyyy, I look like Mrs Meredith when she’s pissed off!” Anders goes on a very complex grimace as he tries to imitate their principal and even doing wacky sounds with his nose.

Hawke only laughs heartily, “Baby you're sweet. But it’s not working. My dick is still unmoving.”

“Why nooot,” Anders downright _whines_ and sags even more. He finally relaxes his facials and look as if he’s been turned down from a voice casting show.

“I don’t know… maybe we should just wait a bit.”

“What if somebody find us here? Shit I’m so drunk… I wanna lay down, Garrett,” Anders whines again and he’s so adorable Hawke actually feels even more guilty ‘cause he can’t even lean to kiss that pout away.

***

In the end it took them another endless hour for Hawke’s cramp to slacken down and for his dick to go limp.

By the time it happened, Anders had dozed off on top of Hawke’s thighs and had even started to snore softly, which means he had to be carried to Hawke’s bedroom, which they unofficially shared.  

Of course it was nearly dawn and the dark haired man had to come back downstairs and clean the big mess they left in the kitchen; drunk, dog-tired and with a wasted load he didn’t had the chance to bust out. Especially after building up such an erotic mood for that second round.

But as he finally flops stomach first next to his passed out lover, Hawke thinks about how he was sure that second round was going to be utterly filthy. And as he looks with bleary eyes at Anders’ innocent sleepy face, he remembers the grimaces he pulled and can't help but bite his lip and chuckles quietly one last time.

He also can’t help kissing his forehead because Anders made derp faces with his cock inside him and he weirdly never felt more in love.


End file.
